Stalked by Monsters (Endcliffe Academy Monster Hunters #1) Read Online Rachel Callahan

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Endcliffe Academy Monster Hunters Series by Rachel Callahan
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
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The town of Endcliffe has always been a safe haven for supernatural creatures—our refuge from the mortals’ prying eyes. My ancestors spelled the boundaries hundreds of years ago so no human may cross. Witches, shifters, vampires, and fae are all welcome to make Endcliffe their home.
But what happens when creatures that make even our skin crawl come sniffing at our sanctuary? What happens when they attack the humans living in blissful ignorance of our existence?
That’s where we come in.
The elite monster hunters of Endcliffe Academy are trained to slay the beasts that go bump in the night. And I’ve been selected to join their prestigious ranks.
This is what I’ve been working towards my entire life—my family’s legacy.
Attacks are happening closer and closer to town. Monsters, they tell us, but something about that doesn’t feel right…
The monsters are circling me, stalking me, like I’m the prey rather than the weapon honed to kill them. But when they have me in their clutches, attacking me seems to be the last thing on their minds…
Something is pulling me to them, a spark that ignites a fire I’ve never felt before.
They’re my sworn enemies, and it’s my duty to scorch the earth of their existence. But will I be able to resist the magnetic force drawing me to them long enough to fulfill my responsibility? Or is there something bigger going on here—something that the Academy is keeping a secret—that might just change our world forever?

FULL BOOK START HERE:

Chapter One

Aria

Duty. Power. Responsibility. The weight of those words press down on me like iron shackles, chaining me to this preordained path. No matter how hard I try to pull away, to get at least a few inches in the other direction, I’m dragged back, weak and exhausted, my hope and determination cracked just a little bit further.

It’s always the same speech from my grandmother, really more like a lecture. I honestly don’t even need to bother listening to her at this point. Her sharp words are just a murmur as I tune them out and focus on the weathered desk before me. My fingers glide along the aged wood, and the pads skitter over where the varnish has worn off from centuries of use. This desk has been used by every leader of the Hart coven—just another reminder of the fate that awaits me. One day it’ll be mine and I’ll be sitting on the other side, the same lines spilling from my lips as I place the burden of our coven’s future on the slender shoulders of my daughter or granddaughter.

“Are you even listening to me, Aria?” my grandmother, Glenda, hisses, breaking through the hum of familiar words.

My eyes flick up to meet hers automatically. The worn wood is replaced with her curled, sneering lips and cutting blue-green glare. She simmers with barely caged rage as she takes me in, clearly already knowing the answer to her question.

“I didn’t hear every word, but I’m sure it went along the lines of ‘you have a duty to uphold’ blah blah blah,” I say, letting my blasé tone convey just how over this conversation I am. I slump back in the wooden chair and let my hands fall onto my lap, doing my best to avoid shifting uncomfortably in the hard seat. “Did I get it right?”

Glenda slams her hand down on the desk right where my fingers had skated over just moments before. My heart jolts at the sudden sound, but I force myself to keep my eyes locked on hers, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. The impact echoes through the silent office as she pulls in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring in irritation.

I lift an unimpressed brow, keeping that look of unamused boredom plastered on my face, but internally I scold myself for letting her catch me off guard. Of course my grandmother is a master of manipulation, she knows every card to play to get the reaction she wants and to capture the upper hand once again. She’s had a century of practice after all.

Which is exactly why silence still stretches between us, it makes people uncomfortable and forces them to fill it. Secrets and platitudes can’t help but fall from people’s lips with just a few tension-filled moments of quiet while in her presence.

Sometimes, I swear the woman must forget that she’s taught me everything I know, that we’re cut from the same cloth, her and I. She raised me in her image, something I’m both grateful for and repulsed by at the same time. The alternative would have been being raised by my traitorous mother, and who knows how I would’ve turned out if she hadn’t shown her true colors when I was a child. But at the same time, I can’t help but mourn the little girl who was thrust into a life of duty and responsibility at such a young age and was given no time to just be a child.


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